


Don't Leave Me

by Attenia



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, OOC Aragorn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 21:58:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18455429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attenia/pseuds/Attenia
Summary: When Aragorn is captured by orcs, Legolas knows that he will find the human injured, but he never guessed the extent of what the orcs would do to him. Stuck alone in a cave during a storm, Legolas is left to do his best to care for his friend, a task he feels wholly unqualified for. OOC Aragorn. Trigger warnings for rape.





	Don't Leave Me

Legolas  
Legolas crept along in the shadows. He wanted nothing more than to run straight into battle, screaming and swinging his knives, but that wouldn’t be smart. He restrained his frustration only with difficulty.  
Estel had been missing for almost a week. When he’d been captured by orcs, Legolas had been right on their heels. He should have had the entire orc party killed by sundown. As horrible luck would have it, a small avalanche blocked the path through the mountains, and he’d had to go the long way around.  
There were three orcs at the entrance to the cave. Legolas knew that there were a further seven inside. He couldn’t hear Estel, and he didn’t know if that was good or bad. He knew that orcs did not treat their captives well.  
Legolas went back a short distance to where he’d left his and Estel’s horses. He unpacked some essentials from the saddlebags to his pack, adding Estel’s bag of healing supplies. Legolas wasn’t a healer like his friend, but he knew the basics of treating wounds.  
He tried to mentally prepare himself for what he would face. That Estel would have been tortured in his absence wasn’t in doubt. Likely, his back would be raw from whipping. Broken fingers and toes were likely. Burns, possibly. Slashes from knives, probably. He shuddered to think of such things, but Legolas knew he needed to get his head around it now. It wouldn’t help anything if he collapsed in anguish the moment he saw Estel.  
As prepared as he was going to get, the prince made his way back to the cave, pulling three arrows out of his quiver. He drew and sighted… then it began.  
All three orcs at the entrance were dead before they had a chance to cry out. Legolas ran into the cave, quickly shooting down two more orcs. The other five were rushing him, and he had to toss aside his bow in favor of his knives. Legolas spun, slashed and stabbed.  
The orcs attacked wildly, but they were no match for him. He and Estel had killed fifteen of the original party, and the remaining ten weren’t enough to stand against either one of them. They only managed to capture Estel because he was knocked out during the fight, and they had dragged him away while Legolas was held back by five orcs. They had no doubt kept Estel confined ever since.  
Within minutes, the orcs were dead. Legolas looked around the cave and quickly found a small grate at what looked like a tunnel leading to another cave. The grate was locked and too thick to break, but a quick examination of the orcs’ bodies revealed the keys.  
Swallowing his hatred of small spaces, Legolas crawled through the tunnel, relieved when it quickly widened to a larger cave. It was pitch black, and he was forced to go back for a torch. When Legolas returned, the light fell on a huddled figure in the corner.  
“Estel,” Legolas breathed, hurrying over to his best friend. It was as bad as he’d feared. Estel had lost a lot of weight – had they fed him at all in the last week? He was bruised and bloody all over, his clothes saturated with blood and dirt. He was curled into a tight ball, facing the wall.  
Legolas gently tried to turn him over to assess the extent of his injuries. Estel cried out and frantically tried to scuttle away, but he didn’t get far, his wounds causing him to gasp in pain.  
“Mellon nin, it is me, Legolas. The orcs are dead. There is nothing to fear.”  
He’d expected his words to calm the human, but when Legolas reached for him again, Estel once more reacted like he’d been burned by the simple touch. He was injuring himself further trying to get away, so the prince sat back on his heels in frustration, not pursuing his friend further around the cave.  
“Estel? Speak to me.”  
Slowly, Estel turned toward him, his back now pressed against the wall. “L-Legolas?”  
“I am here, mellon nin. It is safe now.”  
Tears welled in the human’s eyes, his young face filled with such pain and anguish that it tore at Legolas’ heart. He automatically moved forward, this time to comfort his friend.  
Estel flinched back. “Don’t touch me!”  
Legolas was flummoxed. Never had Estel rejected physical comfort from him – quite the opposite, in fact. “I need to examine your wounds, mellon nin. Some of them look nasty and will need treatment. You know that I would never hurt you.”  
Slowly, Estel nodded, and Legolas approached him again, more carefully, this time. He put a hand on Estel’s shoulder. The human shuddered at the touch, but didn’t pull away. What had they done to him? Legolas’s building fury at the orcs was making his hands tremble slightly as he wished more than anything that he could bring them all back to life just so that he could kill them again.  
He forcibly cleared his head. There was nothing he could do now, nothing except try to care for the damage the beasts had caused. Estel was shaking now with quiet sobs.  
“Oh, mellon nin.” Legolas cupped a hand to his cheek, and the sounds of Estel’s crying increased. Deciding that his friend’s wounds could wait, Legolas carefully eased himself down next to the human, gently gathering him into his arms.  
Estel was tense as a drawn bow at first, but as Legolas murmured soft words of comfort, the human slowly relaxed. Legolas knew that Estel had endured torture before. He himself had been there in the direct aftermath several times. Never had Estel wept like this, never had he clung so desperately to his friend for comfort.  
The last time he remembered the human being this distraught, Estel had been young, barely out of his teen years. His brothers had come back from a hunting trip injured. Elladan just had a scratch, but Elrohir had been stabbed in the gut, and was doing badly. For a time, Elrond wasn’t sure whether or not he would live.  
Legolas remembered rocking Estel as he cried in utter misery, just as he did now. Though it was many years since that incident, the human seemed just as young now as he had then.  
“What did they do to you, gwador?” Legolas murmured.  
Estel pressed his face into the elf’s chest and shook his head. Deciding the question wasn’t important for now, Legolas gently stroked the human’s hair. He pulled himself into a sitting position and took Estel’s shoulders, maneuvering him so that his friend’s head and torso were resting on the prince’s lap.  
Estel once more buried his face in Legolas’ tunic and wrapped his arms around the elf’s waist as he cried. Legolas felt his heart breaking as he watched his best friend in the world break down. Seeing his heart’s brother in such pain was agonizing.  
Eventually, Estel quieted, sniffling slightly, his breath shuddering. Legolas never ceased stroking his hair. “Estel? I need to care for your wounds.”  
The human stiffened again, but nodded his head. Legolas tried to remove his tunic, but before he could move the fabric so much as an inch, Estel flinched and slapped his hands away. His entire body was trembling again. Legolas didn’t know what to do or what was going on.  
“Mellon nin, please, I have to examine you.” He looked around the cave, wondering if the human was cold. Of course, he should have thought of it. It was snowing outside, and the cursed orcs hadn’t even left him a blanket.  
“Wait here, I will bring in things to make a fire for us.”  
Estel’s arms tightened around him, trapping him in place. The human gave Legolas a pleading look the prince didn’t understand. “They hurt me, Legolas,” he whispered.  
“I know, mellon nin, I know. I am going to help you. I just need to go to the other room for a moment, then –”  
“Please, don’t leave me alone.” The whisper was so quiet that another human wouldn’t have picked it up, but Legolas heard. The words broke his heart all over again.  
“Of course not, gwador. I will never leave you when you need me.” Guilt rushed through him anew with the knowledge that he’d left Estel to the hands of these monsters for a week. It didn’t matter that he’d had no choice in the matter; Estel was still hurt, and it was Legolas’ fault for not being there when his friend needed him the most.  
“You have to let me remove your tunic,” Legolas coaxed. “We can put it right back on when your wounds are treated.”  
Slowly, Estel nodded. He squeezed his eyes shut as the tunic came off. Legolas quickly scanned his torso and back. As he’d suspected, Estel had been whipped, and it looked like he had at least one broken rib. The injuries were horrible, but it could have been a lot worse.  
“Lie down on your stomach, Estel. I need to treat your back.”  
Legolas spread his cloak on the ground, and Estel grunted as he painfully stretched out on it. Fortunately, none of the whip gashes were deep enough to need stitches. Legolas cleaned them and spread a healing unguent on the wounds before wrapping them in fresh bandages. He examined Estel’s ribs, determining that one was broken and another badly bruised. He bound them tightly, which helped to ease the human’s breathing a bit.  
Estel had no boots on, but he had several broken toes. These were quickly splinted. Legolas knew that there must be something worse, something to make Estel act like he was. He started to untie Estel’s pants, but the human kicked out at him, seemingly automatically. “Don’t touch me!”  
Legolas looked up and saw terror reflected in his friend’s eyes. A growing horror was dawning on him as he started to put the pieces together. “Estel, did they… did they rape you?”  
Estel squeezed his eyes shut, the tears starting again.  
“Estel, tell me.”  
Slowly, the human nodded. “Oh, my gwador.” Legolas felt tears tracking down his own face as he moved to embrace his friend once more. Now he understood why Estel stiffened under his touch for several minutes before relaxing. He understood everything.  
Legolas tried to think what to do. He’d treated his fair share of battle wounds, but never anything like this.  
“I couldn’t stop them,” Estel whispered. “Their hands on me… them inside me… it hurt.” He stared up at Legolas with pleading eyes. “I couldn’t stop them.”  
“It was not your fault. They did a great evil to you, Estel, one they paid for with their lives. Had I known, I would not have granted them such quick deaths.”  
“I can’t – I can’t forget. I know you won’t hurt me, but I keep remembering them…”  
Legolas tenderly stroked the human’s brow. “I will make you a tea, to put you to sleep. Your wounds have to be treated, but I understand why you cannot tolerate the feeling of anyone’s hands on you right now.”  
Estel was once more tense. “I – I can’t sleep. I can’t close my eyes. They liked to catch me unawares. It was always worse if they caught me sleeping, if I couldn’t prepare myself for it.”  
“Then drink the tea, please, Estel. I know you don’t like those teas, but it will be better if you do not have to remain awake for this.”  
Slowly, the human nodded. “I – I want to wash, first. Please.”  
Legolas resisted the urge to smack himself. Of course, Estel would want to wash. “I will make a fire and boil some water for you.” He looked doubtfully at his friend. Estel could barely move; he definitely didn’t seem up to washing himself. “With your permission, I will wash you myself while you are unconscious.”  
Estel hesitated, and Legolas continued.  
“Try to sit up, mellon nin.”  
Estel did try, but fell back moments later, crying out in pain.  
“You see?” Legolas said gently. “You have not the strength to wash yourself right now. Trust me, mellon nin. I will wash them off you.”  
“Ok,” Estel whispered.  
“Come, let me move you into the other room, there is a fire pit there.”  
As gently as he could, Legolas dragged his friend through the tunnel, letting Estel rest on his cloak. He whistled for the horses, and was pleased when the sound carried even through the wind. Soon, the horses were inside the cave and Legolas was stringing spare hides across the entrance, effectively blocking the wind.  
He made a fire and moved Estel close. Then he put water on the boil and unpacked some clean clothes for Estel, using some of his own spare clothing to make a small padded bed for the human. For now, he left his friend on the cloak, not wanting to get the bed soaked while washing him.  
Soon, there was enough water for hot tea. Legolas quickly put together a concoction Elrond had used on him many times, and handed it to Estel. The human stared at him for a minute, and Legolas gave him an encouraging smile.  
“Drink, mellon nin. Things will be better when you wake, I promise you.”  
Finally, Estel drank. Within minutes, he was fast asleep. Legolas waited a while to be sure that Estel was deeply under before beginning. He pulled Estel’s pants off and slowly examined his legs for wounds from the ankles up, finding only shallow cuts and some bruises.  
He took a deep breath and flipped his friend over, gently spreading his legs. Legolas gasped at the sight. There was dried blood coating Estel’s inner thighs, and as Legolas spread him further, he found his friend red and raw, blood still dribbling gently from inside him.  
With the utmost care, Legolas cleaned off the blood. He didn’t know what to do for the internal injuries, and cursed himself for not asking Estel before he knocked the human out. The best he could do was care for the surface wounds and hope that the internal damage healed with time.  
By the time he was done, Legolas was weeping and shaking nearly as badly as Estel had been. He sat back, taking shuddering breaths and trying to compose himself.  
The blood was gone, now. Legolas got a clean cloth and dipped it into the hot water, spreading some soap over the surface. He washed Estel from the bottom up, ever careful of his injuries. He had to remove the bandages around his ribs to clean the skin beneath them, but fortunately he’d already cleaned the human’s back before bandaging the whip wounds.  
Legolas wiped grime and sweat of his friend’s face and even washed his hair. He dried the human carefully and started to spread the healing unguent on the lower part of his body where the sensitive skin was torn and enflamed.  
That done, Legolas bandaged the area as well as he could and put Estel in some fresh clothes. To his great relief, the human was still deeply asleep. Legolas moved him to the bed and turned back to the hot water. He hadn’t bathed in a week, ever since Estel had been taken, and now took the time to wash up.  
After that, he cared for the horses and took out some travel rations for when Estel woke up. Then he pulled Estel’s head into his lap and brushed the human’s hair, humming softly to himself. Finally, all of his tasks done, Legolas spread out his own bedroll next to Estel’s and fell into an exhausted sleep, knowing that the horses would wake them if anyone approached the cave entrance.

Aragorn  
Hands were on him. Aragorn fruitlessly tried to twist away, but he was weak from lack of food. He screamed in pain as his legs were pulled apart and another foul orc pressed into him. He thrashed wildly, but there was nothing he could do to escape the violation, nothing but scream…  
“Estel! Estel, wake up!”  
His eyes snapped open. The first thing he knew was that there were hands on him. Aragorn scrambled back, crying out in pain as his various injuries protested.  
Legolas froze in place, holding out a placating hand toward him. “It is Legolas, mellon nin. You were having a nightmare. I thought it best to wake you.”  
Of course. Aragorn wasn’t a captive anymore. Legolas had come for him, as Aragorn had known he would.  
“Sorry,” he muttered. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t shake the memories.  
“Do not be sorry. Your reaction is to be expected. Come, lie back down.”  
Legolas had to help him back into bed. Every movement seemed to tear Aragorn’s insides. He could tell that he had been washed and his wounds treated; he was just glad he hadn’t been awake for that part.  
“Are you hungry?”  
Aragorn realized he was, and nodded. Legolas smiled and handed him a large piece of lembas. He tried to sit up, but fell back, groaning, as his insides protested violently to the position.  
“Do not try to get up,” Legolas said quickly. “Here, I will help you.”  
With anyone else, Estel may have been embarrassed to have to be fed, but not with Legolas. He made quick work of the lembas. Afterward, he gulped water from the skin his friend offered. Legolas gave him some herbs for the pain, and others to fight off infection.  
That done, the elf pulled the covers back up. “Go to sleep, Estel. You still need rest.”  
Aragorn knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep; he wondered if he ever would again. “When can we leave?” he asked.  
“Leave?”  
“For Imladris.”  
“Oh. It’ll be some time before you’re well enough to ride. At least a week or two, I should think.”  
“No. No, Legolas, I want to leave now, as soon as possible.”  
“There are no more orcs,” the elf soothed. “We are safe here.”  
“I know.” Aragorn squeezed his eyes shut. “I just… I want my Ada.”  
He hated that more tears were escaping, and Legolas’ arms slowly came around him. He fought the urge to pull away, telling himself that the prince would never hurt him. After a minute, Aragorn managed to relax and soak up the comfort of his friend’s embrace.  
“I’m sure you do, Estel, but he wouldn’t want you to injure yourself further. Let us wait at least a few days, alright? You won’t be able to sit on a horse for some time, but I can make a litter for you. The horses can drag it.”  
Relief filled him. Legolas understood. The prince himself had been soothed by Elrond’s gentle care before. He knew how Aragorn felt.  
“I won’t be able to sleep,” he admitted. “I think I need some more tea.”  
“Of course. You just rest, I will take care of it.”  
Several minutes later, Legolas gave him a cup of hot tea, which Aragorn downed gratefully. Almost instantly, he began to feel drowsy, and he didn’t fight the sensation.  
The tea may have gotten him to sleep, but it didn’t prevent the nightmares. Aragorn had expected it and was therefore surprised when the horrendous memory morphed into something more pleasant. His Ada’s voice was calling to him.  
“Estel, wake.” Hands were on him again, but these hands, he didn’t fear. He opened his eyes, blinking. Surely, this was still a dream. They couldn’t have gotten back to Imladris already.  
Yet Elrond was there, a hand on Aragorn’s cheek.  
“Ada?” His voice broke, and Elrond quickly wrapped him up in a hug.  
“I am here, ion nin. I am here.”  
Aragorn found himself crying again, clinging to his father like he had as a child. Elrond gathered the distraught human into his arms and rocked him slowly, singing an old lullaby that had always soothed his youngest son.  
“What happened to him?” someone whispered. Aragorn looked up to see Elladan and Elrohir standing several feet away, speaking quietly to Legolas.  
He didn’t hear the answer as he hid his face in Elrond’s shoulder. “It is ok, ion nin. I am with you, as are your brothers.”  
“How – how did you find us? H-how did you even know…?”  
“I always know when one of my sons needs me,” the elf lord replied simply. “Now come, let me see to your wounds.”  
Aragorn flinched, and across the room, Legolas made a cutting gesture with his hand. Elrond saw it and paused in whatever he’d been about to say next, frowning. Aragorn looked up at his friend in panic. He didn’t know how to tell them. Did he even want them to know? He realized he was trembling again when Elrond started hushing him, but panic was quickly overtaking him.  
Legolas swiftly came to kneel in front of him, taking Aragorn’s hands in his. “Estel, with your permission, I will give you some more tea to make you sleep. Then, I will explain everything to your family, and Lord Elrond can see to your wounds.”  
Relief filled him, and Aragorn nodded. His brothers exchanged worried looks. Aragorn would usually have vehemently rejected any sedating tea.  
Elrond insisted he eat another piece of lembas while the tea was prepared, which Aragorn did eagerly. When Legolas handed him the cup, though, he hesitated.  
“I’ll… I’ll have nightmares.”  
“I will stay with you,” Elrond promised. “I will keep the nightmares away.”  
Aragorn remembered when he’d been very young, shortly after being brought to Imladris. Memories of his birth parents’ deaths had haunted his dreams, allowing him little or no rest. Many a night he’d spent in his Ada’s arms. Elrond had never failed to keep his nightmares away.  
It was something Aragorn hadn’t allowed since he’d become an adult, but right now, needing to be held like a child was the least of his worries. He just wanted to sleep without fear of the memories.  
Elrond lay down next to him, and Aragorn pressed his back up against his Ada’s chest, just as he’d done when he was younger.  
“Sleep, now, ion nin. I will not leave you.” As his Ada started singing the old lullaby again, the tea fully kicked in and Aragorn fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.  
When he woke, he was stiff, hungry and thirsty. The leather cover had been removed from the cave’s entrance, and weak sunlight was coming in. It appeared there had been a break in the snow. Aragorn was still lying peacefully in his Ada’s arms.  
“Estel? You are awake?” The elf lord had always known the moment Aragorn woke up.  
“I am. How long did I sleep for?”  
“Nearly two days. You needed it, ion nin. You chose a good time to wake. The twins went hunting and have had a stew on for several hours. I think it is just about cooked, now.”  
Aragorn nodded and automatically tried to sit up, forgetting his injuries for a moment. His body quickly reminded him, and his cry of pain had three other elves rushing forward to comfort him.  
“I’m fine,” he muttered, embarrassed, not meeting his brothers’ eyes. He looked instead at Legolas, who gave him an encouraging smile.  
His Ada helped him lie down in again before getting up and carrying over a bowl of stew. Aragorn winced as he tried to lie in a way that didn’t hurt, but his muscles had tightened during his long rest.  
Elrond noticed at once and set the stew aside. “We should work out some of that stiffness first, so that you can eat free of pain.”  
Aragorn hesitated. He knew that at the very least, his shirt would have to come off, and quite possibly his pants, too. Guilt filled him as he shied away from the thought. This was his family! He had no reason to fear being exposed in front of them.  
“What is it, Estel?” Elladan leaned forward, though was careful not to touch him, for which Aragorn was grateful.  
Aragorn opened his mouth, but no words came out.  
Elrohir shot a concerned glance at Elrond before kneeling down in front of Aragorn. “You do not need to fear us, little brother. We would never hurt you.”  
He knew that, of course, but Aragorn still unconsciously clutched at his tunic. Legolas sensed his panic and quickly brought a hand to his cheek.  
“Calm, Estel. Hir nin, perhaps you and the twins could scout the area for orcs? We don’t want to be surprised by anything. I can care for Estel.”  
They all knew that there were no orcs in the area, but after a glance at Aragorn’s look of relief, Elrond nodded.  
“Come, then, let us do so. Elladan and Elrohir have been dying to get their hands on some orc flesh ever since they found out what happened.” The twins’ brows drew down in such dangerous glares at these words that Aragorn almost felt sorry for whatever orcs they managed to find to vent their anger on.  
His family left, and Aragorn slumped in defeat. “What’s wrong with me?” he asked Legolas desolately. “They’re my family. I have no reason to fear them undressing me.”  
“They understand, Estel. Do not worry over it.”  
It was still hard, letting Legolas slowly strip off his clothes, but Legolas had been there right at the beginning. It had been the prince’s touch that had comforted Aragorn when he was alone, terrified and in pain. He felt more comfortable with the elf than he was with anyone else.  
“Onto your stomach first, I think.”  
He lay down as Legolas suggested. The prince poured some oil onto his hands and began gently rubbing his sore muscles, being careful to avoid the still-healing cuts from the whip. He worked his way down Aragorn’s body before telling him to flip over and started massaging his front. The prince avoided his private areas completely, which Aragorn was grateful for.  
“You know more than I give you credit for,” he said as Legolas helped him stretch his arms this way and that, working out residue stiffness.  
“My best friend is a healer, I can hardly not pick up some things,” he teased.  
“I guess so. Ada will be impressed… if he’s not disappointed in me, that is. I sent him away like he was the culprit.”  
“You did not,” Legolas said firmly. “He only wants you to be well and will take no offence.”  
“And the twins?”  
“Them too, Estel. They love you. They would cut their own arms off it they thought it would make you feel better.”  
By the time Ada and the twins got back, Legolas had cleaned off the oil and helped him dress again. Feeling much better, Aragorn accepted a bowl of stew, which Legolas fed him spoonful by spoonful as he lay with his head on his friend’s lap.  
The twins soon drew him into light conversation, which he found helped. For a while, Aragorn could forget about his troubles, and even smile at their antics.  
They spent two weeks in the cave before Elrond gave Aragorn permission to ride. By the end of the first week, he could sit and walk with relative ease, though there was still discomfort in sitting for long periods. His body was healing well, though.  
His mind was slower to heal. Each night, his Ada kept away his nightmares, but that did nothing for the memories that accosted him in his waking hours. Elrond encouraged him to talk about it. Legolas was the only one Aragorn found he could talk to, but his family didn’t seem to take offence, readily giving him and the prince time alone whenever asked.  
Many times, Elrond would return to find Aragorn sobbing in his friend’s arms. As days passed, he learned to accept more physical comfort from his brothers and Elrond. By the time he was healed enough to ride, he had spent more time being held by his family as he cried than he had in the past ten years combined.  
Elrond was confident, though, that he would heal. Elladan and Elrohir were confident that they would not leave a single orc in middle earth with its head. Legolas simply smiled and never left his friend’s side.  
It was when they were packing their things to leave that it happened. Aragorn had been told to rest, to save his energy for the ride ahead. His family and Legolas had been going back and forth between the cave and the horses outside, strapping various possessions onto their mounts.  
Legolas stepped out with a bundle of bedrolls, leaving Aragorn momentarily alone in the cave.  
Panic seized him. He only now realized that he hadn’t been left alone since Legolas first rescued him. Memories of what the orcs had done to him hit him like a hammer to the face.  
“L-Legolas!”  
The prince came sprinting back in at the terrified cry. Aragorn held his arms out, knowing he must look utterly pitiful, but Legolas didn’t seem to care. He pulled Aragorn into a tight hug, and Aragorn was pleased to realize that he didn’t flinch or stiffen at all. It may take time to let anyone other than his family or Legolas touch him, but at least he didn’t shy away from them anymore.  
“What is it, Estel?”  
“Please don’t leave me alone,” he whispered, repeating his words from the first night.  
Legolas seemed to understand at once. He set aside the bedrolls and pulled Aragorn into his lap, his strong arms wrapping around his human friend. “Of course not, gwador. I will never leave you when you need me.”  
He remembered too, the words spoken that first night. Aragorn leaned his head back, resting on his friend. “It’s stupid,” he muttered. “I can’t expect you, the twins or Ada to accompany me everywhere for the rest of my life. I should be…”  
“You should be nothing. You are still hurt and afraid. You are still recovering. Do not worry, Estel, you will not need us by your side like this forever. For now, though, we are here for you, in whatever way you may need us. Never be ashamed of needing our help.”  
Aragorn nodded slowly, his spirit lifted by his friend’s words. Before long, the twins came back. Seeing how Aragorn was clinging to Legolas, they came down to sit on either side of him.  
“You ok, Estel?” Elrohir asked.  
Aragorn shrugged, and the other twin playfully poked him in the shoulder, one of the few areas where he had no injuries. “I think you’re just trying to get out of helping us pack up.”  
This had him snorting in mirth. “Yeah, right, like you didn’t threaten to sit on my chest if I didn’t rest while you did the work.”  
Elladan held a hand to his heart in mock offence. “I would never do such a thing, would I, Elrohir?”  
“Of course not.” His twin grinned evilly. “Nor would you ever pretend to have a broken arm so that you didn’t have to help Estel and me load Ada’s wine barrels for the feast.”  
That got him a cuff on the head, but it had Aragorn and Legolas howling with laughter. He remembered that incident well. Ada had insisted that if Elladan had a broken arm, it must remain splinted for a full eight weeks. By the end of the second week, Elladan was wishing he’d just loaded the stupid barrels, but Ada hadn’t relented, making him keep the splint until the ‘break’ was fully healed.  
Elrond came back in to find his sons and Legolas chuckling and shooting jibes at each other. He smiled at their antics and finished the rest of the packing by himself.  
When he finally helped Aragorn onto a horse, Aragorn could sit with only minimal pain, and he smiled at them, trying to allay their worries. “I’m fine. I will be, at least.”  
He glanced at Legolas, who gave him a small nod, mounting up on his own horse and riding close by the human’s side. Aragorn managed to relax and enjoy the scenery as they rode, safely surrounded by his friends and family. Legolas never left his side, and Aragorn knew that the prince wouldn’t, not until he was ready.  
He never needed to repeat the words – don’t leave me alone. More than once in the coming years, he had to say the opposite, sometimes needing to throw pillows at his best friend and brothers to get them to give him some peace.  
It was infuriating, sometimes, and more than once he complained to his Ada about it… but he wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
